


The Morning After

by Ladderofyears



Series: Insatiable [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Belly Kink, Childhood Memories, Chubby Draco Malfoy, Feeder Harry Potter, Feeding, Hand Feeding, Kissing, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Objectification, True Love, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 16:58:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17943605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladderofyears/pseuds/Ladderofyears
Summary: The morning after Draco's wonderful twenty-seventh birthday party, Harry awakens in their hotel room to the sight of his husband, and reflects on how far they've both come in their relationship.**This is a pretty kinky story/sequel about Harry Potter's objectification and desire for his larger husband, so if this isn't you kind of thing, no worries**





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> I so enjoyed writing Insatiable, and couldn't get the image of these characters out of my head. The action here occurs directly after the events of Insatiable, and is the morning after Draco's party.

Harry woke up to the noise of rain pattering against the window, and the creak of the bed beside him. 

Without even opening his eyes, Harry could tell they weren't at home. The mattress was far harder than the one he and Draco shared, and the room was charmed slightly warmer than what he was used to. He shifted to lie on his back, throwing the bedclothes onto the floor as he moved. 

He could hear a tap running in the bathroom, and the graceful pad of Draco’s feet as he moved around their hotel suite. His husband was a terrible creature of habit, and woke early nearly everyday, holiday or otherwise. Harry, however, enjoyed being lazy on their rare days off together, and he swore silently that nothing was going to shift him from their bed for at least an hour. 

Shifting his body to Draco’s side of the bed, Harry luxuriated in the heat and scent that his husband’s body had left behind. 

The pillow even carried Draco’s signature aroma, a concoction of his vanilla shampoo and the sugary sweetness of the strawberry gateaux that had finally finished their delicious little game the previous night. His scent memory triggered, Harry’s thoughts were inundated with a dozen memories from Draco’s birthday night. 

_The fizz of the champagne, the three-tiered chocolate birthday cake, the laughter of their friends and the pop of their apparition as they landed here on this very bed-_

Harry could feel his pulse start to race as he remembered the wanton visage of his husband, nestled decadently on the very sheets he now lay upon. 

Draco had lay there like an Emperor, and taken his pleasure beautifully. His copious body had been a sight to behold, his tummy a vast dome that had risen from their bed, swollen, taut and delightful. In the cool of the night, Draco had slid over for a cuddle, and Harry had felt him shift his weighty belly so that it lay half on top of his own. 

His glorious flashback was disturbed by the sound of the bathroom door opening, and the figure of his husband stepping towards him. Harry opened his eyes to see that Draco’s blond hair was damp, and his features were soft; open and shiny with happiness. Smiling, Draco stifled a yawn and sat down beside Harry on the bed. Barefoot, he wore a short bathrobe that skimmed his thighs, the belt a snug fit where he’d knotted it on the widest part of his belly. Harry felt his heart jump to his throat, and a small noise escaped from his mouth. 

Draco looked delectable, and far more composed after last nights excesses than he has any right to be. They’d laid themselves bare, body and soul, and Draco had pushed his body to its limits. 

“Morning, love”, Draco greeted, a bashful smile playing on his lips as he spied Harry’s discomposure. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, but you know how I get… But its still early. You should go back to sleep.” 

Harry, of course, had no intention of now going back to sleep, or indeed, going to any other place that didn’t involve the removal of that bathrobe from his husband. Draco had propped himself against the headboard, the skimpy bathrobe riding up his legs even further. 

Harry shimmied his body so that his head was resting in the crook of Draco’s neck, and enjoyed feeling the soft contours of Draco’s freshly shaven chin against his hair, and loving the sensation of wrapping his arms around the substantial body underneath him. 

When they’d first lived together, Draco had struggled with intimate touching, and shook away any non-sexual affection, clearly unconformable and embarrassed. Harry had known it was down to the strictures of his upbringing, down to the way his father had criticised him for showing his feelings or even the slightest hint of vulnerability. Harry tried desperately not to feel hurt when he was rebuffed, or pushed away. He’d known, even then, that it wasn’t a personal slight. 

Draco had told him once, sat on their settee in the early hours of a morning, that affection had been censored from his childhood, seen by his father a symptom of the weakness of Muggles and other, lesser creatures. Harry’s husband had been schooled to control his emotions in much the same way he’d been taught to master his body, taught that any spare flesh should be seen as a sign of gluttony, of imperfection. Every inch on Draco’s exquisite body was a powerful statement against his upbringing, and the negativity and pain it had brought to his life. 

But as his silhouette had expanded, so had Draco’s emotional range. Now he embraced love, laughter and happiness as his birth right. Draco took his joys unapologetically, be they a simple cuddle with Harry in on a wet, weekday morning or the more lavish delights that Harry had delighted in delivering the previous night. 

The mere thought of Draco’s soft lips gently eating the cake from his fingertips sent a shiver of anticipation through Harry’s body. Last night, Draco had been left stuffed too full to participate in _any_ activity beyond sleeping. This morning, however his darling seemed relaxed and at ease, his hands resting lightly on his soft, generous belly. 

Harry moved his hands to sit on top of Draco’s, and turned his head to capture his husbands jaw for a small kiss. 

“Last night was wonderful”, Harry whispered into Draco’s warm skin. “You were immense… You looked so gorgeous, you’ve no idea. If you could only have seen yourself... A feast for anyone's eyes”. 

“A feast for my belly, more like!” Draco laughed, his tummy jiggling under Harry’s hands. “Love, whoever told you that flattery will get you everywhere, was obviously onto something… I’ll admit, it was a night I’ll never forget. Well. I’m hardly likely to. The evidence had popped out quite clearly when I took my measurements before I showered this morning.” 

Harry sat up, interest piqued with Draco’s comment. His husband’s weight had plateaued for several months. Neither he nor Draco had wanted to push his mass _too_ much higher, in case it impacted on Draco’s health or any of their divine little games. 

“I was forty-eight inches round my waist when I measured. The biggest I’ve ever been… I’ve had to enlarge _this_ ” Draco smiled, proudly gesturing at the bathrobe, “to get it round me… And nothing else fits. We’ll have to go to the tailors and get me a new wardrobe”. Draco lay smugly back on the bed, quite aware of the effect his words were having on Harry. 

“That’s massive... In one night?” Harry was fascinated by this new modification to his lovers physique. Draco had never pushed himself though such a large gain before, and he needed to see the evidence for himself, _immediately_. Jumping off the bed, he rushed round to Draco and helped lift him off the bed. 

Draco groaned as he was pulled to his feet, but Harry could tell it was half-hearted. 

His husband liked nothing better than preening under Harry’s hot, needy gaze, a willing subject of his scrutiny and want. Harry could feel Draco sway a little from the sudden movement and change in gravity, so he snaked his arms around him, carefully walking them both over to the full length mirror together. 

“This is pure objectification” purred Draco as Harry slipped off the bathrobe, dropping it into a puddle at Draco’s feet. “I’ve never seen you get this excited by my intelligence or quick wit… I’ve half a mind to get myself really svelte… Teach you a lesson-”

“Don’t you dare” Harry muttered, his attraction to his husband’s naked form tenting his pyjamas, and making his breathing uneven. “You’re perfection.” 

Draco’s belly was visibly wider and deeper than the previous day and the sides each held a deeper, softer curve. As he spoke, Draco’s body rippled and rolled, and when Harry pressed his hand to the soft mass beneath his husband’s bellybutton it was pliable and lush, the skin flushed a luscious pale pink. The rotund, heavy mound thrust out several long inches in front of Draco, leading him wherever he went. 

_And yes_ , thought Harry. _Draco was perfection_. Kind, generous and funny, this body way only one of the many things he loved about him. 

But right now, the excesses of the previous night and the quiet, loving intimacy of their morning were intermingling in Harry’s mind, and he felt quite desperate with need. Draco was blushing, a beaming smile filling his face and he looked cherubic and innocent. It was, of course, pure coquetry on his husband’s part, a ploy to wind up Harry till he was insensible. 

“I don’t think I can wait any more for you, Draco… Please… I need you” Harry wined, not above wheedling or begging. Draco didn’t reply, except to thread his thicker fingers though Harry’s slim digits and lead them both back towards the bed. 

*

Naked only minutes later, Harry was hard and ready, impatient for the feeling of his lover beneath him. 

Harry could hardly wait for Draco to adjust himself on the mattress. Harry knew he needed to let him prep himself carefully, so that no part of him would get sore or chafed. As his husband had gained, their sex life had transformed, becoming far more considered, thoughtful and more intimate as each pound had been added. Both men had learnt to communicate, to share what they needed from each other. Draco also needed a degree of support for any aerobic positions, because his centre of gravity could cause him to lose his balance quite easily. 

Harry often used a levitating charm to hold some of his mass. Never a lightening spell though: Harry loved to feel the heft of his lover bearing down on him, squashing against his own bony chest. 

But not today; this was one morning that Harry felt far too keyed up and excited to perform the spells effectively, and far too much in love to risk hurting Draco in the process. 

He angled Draco’s body on carefully placed cushioning spells so that he could prepare him, but Harry simply couldn’t resist kneading his wonderfully soft arse cheeks as he opened him wide with slick fingers. 

Draco was quiet, utterly lost deep within the sensation. Harry knew he was aroused though, for he was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his whole body shivering despite the heat of the room. Sex with his husband had only got better as he’d increased in size, and Harry used Draco's love handles for leverage, gripping his fingers tightly in the hot tight skin as he eased himself into Draco’s open arse. 

Draco was so well padded now that Harry could nearly bounce off him, and his excitement started to ricochet and pulse though his body. All of Draco’s body was squashed next to his, every piece of it tactile, touchable and appreciated. His cock was held tight by Draco’s plushy bottom, all snug and yielding, and Harry realised he was coming before he could quite articulate the thought. He spilled into Draco on a gasp of his darling’s name, rocking into him on a deep thrust that had both of them inarticulate and moaning. 

It took both men a moment for their breathing to return to normal, and then Harry was helped an exhausted, trembling Draco onto his side, bringing his ready prick to orgasm in a matter of moments. 

*

An hour later, and Harry was sat on _Scourgified_ bedsheets, waiting impatiently for Draco to stop repacking their bags. If Draco had used an extension charm on his clothes, Harry couldn’t tell. He looked as well tailored and as sharply dressed as ever. 

His husbands voice was an incessant grumble about Harry’s inherent lack of neatness and generally poor social graces. It was really nothing Harry hadn’t heard a thousand times before, and he let the noise drift over him, familiar and companionable. He was hoping Draco could hurry up a little though. They had only two hours before they needed to arrive at their apparition point, and Harry was hoping to explore a little. Finally nodding his approval, Draco _Reducio’d_ their bags, and placed them in his pocket. 

Pulling the door shut behind him, Harry linked arms with Draco and they made their way happily to the elevator. 

It was time for their breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I'm pretty in love with these characters right now, so I'm sure this isn't the last you'll hear from them XX


End file.
